An Examination of Fate
by InkandGrit
Summary: What might have happened if Jasper had never left Maria? This is my theory.


**AN: This is an AU 'what might have been' piece based on the following question: what would have happened if Jasper had never left the South? Please read and review.**

The camp was never still anymore; even between battles, even in the calm before the storm, even when every body able to stand grew completely motionless, things were never still. He knew why, of course, knew intimately the emotion associated with total stillness, the mood that demanded stillness and made that demand without any cruelty at all. Peace was a stranger here, in this place where every one of them was ready to die at any minute. They all knew the next breath could easily be their last and, in their own backwards way, reveled in that transitory nature. It was proof of what they were, proof that they were powerful, proof that they ruled - at least they thought they did. In truth, there was only one ruler, only one here in this barren place so full of life who knew the truth. Peace was a thing to be scorned, a privilege only enjoyed by the dead.

There were so many dead. There always would be; the land was bathed in blood long since dried, the eternal price of victory. Blood and death had come here so often and with such regular force it had soaked into the ground, dug deep and taken root in the flat clay underfoot. The land had no other memory now, the sky permanently stained by long-dead fires that blazed on in the memory of one who'd watched them all burn to cinders and ashes. The largest fire had served to burn her body, her clothes, her bed, everything that had held her scent - including the last of her troops. Only the rosary was left, beads discolored on one side after so many countless years spent wrapped around her neck. He'd torn off the crucifix in a long forgotten fit of anger, but the beads stayed, a small tribute to the last ally he'd had.

"Sir?" The voice that broke Jasper's reverie was breathy, nervous, too high. The boy had been changed too young, barely fourteen...but Jasper had been unable to help himself. Like all the rest, the redhead had proven a tremendous disappointment within a few short months. Never mind that Jasper owned more territory that Maria had ever dreamed of. They were still newborns, pawns, when each day ended.

The blonde turned slowly, a move that should never have been necessary. Before the growl could build in Jasper's chest, the newborn knelt so low his nose was almost touching the ground. Sloppy; there was no other way to describe the way the boy had thrown himself hastily towards the dirt to please his commanding officer. "There's been report of an intruder, Sir. A pair of runners just brought her in from Wichita."

Wichita, Kansas was the northernmost point to all that fell under Jasper's control. His crimson eyes sparked with interest as well as irritation. Why had the intruder not been killed? Why had they been allowed to come into his home, his territory, at all? "Very well." His voice was flat, empty. "Take me to them - and be quick about it."

They ran, barefoot, over the hard-packed sun baked ground, stopping when they reached three vampires. The young one who'd brought him stayed on Jasper's left, kneeling as soon as they stopped. The runners were already down, holding a stranger between them, nothing visible but spiky hair and bony shoulders. Jasper spoke as if the stranger didn't exist, his voice flat as ever, emotionless. "Rise."

The three vampires rose, the runners pulling the stranger up roughly. Jasper looked quietly into the flat black eyes, testing the wild emotions of the newcomer. Savage, half-crazed, difficult to control, the woman before him was snarling, writhing in the grip of her captors. "She's been fighting the whole way, sir."

"Let her go." At Jasper's whisper, the eyes of the runners widened. Still, they obeyed. Disobedience always meant instantaneous death and they had learned quickly not to dare be so foolish. Though the stranger continued to snarl, Jasper was in control, tugging the threads of various emotions with the finesse of a master artisan. He increased her fear, careful to keep anger down so that she would have no chance to attack. After a few minutes, he withdrew, replacing the fear with a numbness, emotional emptiness. Still, she didn't move. "Do you know why you've been brought here, newborn?"

"I came here looking for you." The words still came out in a snarl. Yes, this one was feral, wild, her eyes constantly set in slits, a deadly glare. When she moved forward, Jasper growled.

"Why?"

"To join you." Now it was time for his gaze to narrow, his muscles to bunch. Those who wished to join the army had to prove themselves capable. There was only ever one way to do that.

An hour later, the fire was blazing, purple smoke staining the sky and casting a haze over the camp. Rising from a terrified crouch, the nervous newborn examined the fire with the empty gaze of a shell-shocked soldier who has just witnessed the impossible. A second later, he lost his head, his body thrown to the blaze. The runners knelt hastily. "Return to your posts," the leader ordered. They ran, vanishing into the night.

"I'm terribly sorry, Jasper," Alice whispered, the flames flickering in her cold gaze. "You were a worthy opponent. You died a soldier's death, as you deserved. Now, I will guide your army to a future you could never dream. The South is mine."


End file.
